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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501661">Brittle Sins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleadThe5th/pseuds/PleadThe5th'>PleadThe5th</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, I'll add more as I go, Knight Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Prince Dean Winchester, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:34:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501661</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleadThe5th/pseuds/PleadThe5th</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A kingdom ruled with an iron fist has persevered for hundreds of years, but change has begun to entire the kingdom's borders. Castiel, the Knight's Commander, is faced with dilemmas that threaten his oath to his kingdom, his brethren, and his own life. The crowned-prince, Dean, is forced out of the mold that has been made for him since before his birth but will he be be able to break out without breaking himself?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Castiel P.O.V.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The long ride back from the southern mountains was never his favorite part of expeditions; it was the scenery. Despite how cliché it was, the sun rises and sun sets were always a sight to behold. Waking up early had become a habitat he had to live with, why not find something to enjoy with it? </p><p><br/>Leaving the rocky outcrops was a constant worry in the late spring and early winters. The constant rain showers made mud slides common and lost men and supplies even more common. There were no forests in the south here. There were fields upon fields upon fields which abruptly stopped at the mountainous lands. Fields harbored peasants and farmers that worked until night fall and came back to life at the dawn’s wake. They looked like ants from the highest attainable bases on the mountains.</p><p><br/> Even the fields were able to hold his appreciation. They were like sheets of gold during the evenings and in the morning, they seemed to hold the reflection of the sky in the dew soaked crops. It was something he hoped he never forgot with his time here. As a knight, who knew how long that was. </p><p><br/>He had led a small group of fellow knights and soldiers to find the latest victims of the past mud slides. A few pieces of equipment and splintered shields was all they could find. The lack of bodies, both people and their horses, was oddly normal and never questioned. They were just...gone.</p><p><br/>His hands tightly gripped his horse's reins, a slight tightness in his chest. It wasn't right. He trained with some of them, he even was there for some of their family's weddings or birthdays, always invited as a close friend. Now, he could not even think about showing up and lowering an empty coffin. Figures.</p><p><br/> Castiel's horse threw his head from the unexpected pressure at the bit. Giving a small apology in the form of a pat on the neck, Castiel loosened his hold on the reins. They were now making their way through the fields, almost back into His Highness's direct jurisdiction. His council controlled the areas surrounding the castle and the adjacent areas and reported back to the king, to get his orders on what new law or tax to collect most often. The king very rarely left the castle. In all of Castiel's 25 years of life, he only saw the king leave twice. </p><p><br/>The dirt paths leading out of the fields gave way to gravel roads. Now he could see clusters of houses and animals fenced in pens awaiting slaughter and storage for the following winter. Many houses were made of brick or stone to help keep the inside insulated and heated. There were a few that had to rely on wood, straw, mud, and prayers to get through the colder nights. Even in the poorest of the poor they could find something to look up to when they always had to look down. It inspired Castiel weirdly.</p><p><br/> The sun made the smell of the approaching animals grow stronger and burn the inside of Castiel and his company's nostrils. Or to the village folk, the stench could have been from the men who were drenched in sweat from their metallic cages. Iron chest plates, boots, armguards, and leg armor announced their presence to even the deaf it would seem like. Upon their armor was the royal crest. On Castiel's shield was a chevron and outlined in front of it was a wyvern. If there was color to it, the background would be green, the chevron black, and outline of the winged creature red.</p><p><br/> The assortment of men had not seen a bar of soap for almost a month and their thighs were chaffed from the constant riding and exposed skin was burnt and peeling from the sun. The confines of the castle could be suffocating but no one could complain about having a cool shower now.</p><p><br/> A small crowd had gather at the far reaches of the village. They had surrounded a group of like dressed knights and a prominent figure in the middle of the group. Ordering his men to move up, Castiel urged his horse into a brisk trot to gauge the crowd upon closer inspection. They were all farmers, peasants, nothing strange. But what really struck out was the middle figure, or, what was on his head made him stand out.</p><p><br/> On top of the individuals head was a well fitted crown adorned with black and green jewels imbedded in the gold. His clothes were just as expensive with leather riding boots, a pair of pants that were a rich indigo and a white tunic. Not a stain could be seen. The clean-shaven face was smiling brightly and his eyes seemed to almost be closed from either the sun or laughing so much. Suddenly, it hit Castiel like a brick. The prince. He had ventured out of the castle.</p><p><br/> Hurrying over to one of the knights that had accompanied him, Castiel started his brigade of questions.<br/>"Why has His Grace left the premises of the castle?” Castiel barked out, “was it not the king’s order to not let him leave unless it was grave circumstances?”</p><p><br/> Castiel was quite taller than the knight he directed his questions towards. To answer them, the knight had to incline his head. To say the sight the knight saw was intimidating would be an understatement.</p><p><br/> “According to His Grace, it was a…dire circumstance that he left the castle. He made haste to leave the castle this morning.”</p><p><br/> “Did he have his father’s permission?”</p><p><br/> “The prince never mentioned an opposition fro-” before Castiel allowed the knight to finish, he turned his horse towards where the prince was standing. He was now off his horse and talking to the town’s people. Everything in Castiel’s being was pulled taught as he could feel the wrath of the king radiating from the castle. Approaching the prince, Castiel addressed him.</p><p><br/> “Your Grace, I do not think it wise to leave without your father’s discretion. Me and my company would be more than willing to escort you back.” </p><p><br/>Turning to Castiel, the prince still had his smile, but his eyes were now almost emotionless. “Do you think it wise to make assumptions based on nothingness? Who said my father did not know?”</p><p><br/> Taken slightly back, Castiel continued. “Of course, not Your Grace. The king does not grant visitation to the city’s outlaying towns by the prince. He never has.”</p><p><br/> The prince took a few steps towards Castiel and his mount, hands clasped behind his back. The closer the prince got, the more of his features Castiel could see. He would be slightly taller than Castiel if they were next to each other. The prince’s eyes were what caught Castiel off guard. They were as green as the jewels that adorned the prince’s crown and reflected the light as the fields do in the morning. His hair was cropped short and was a simple brown. Freckles lined his face in all places, a few on his cheeks, his nose, the tip of his ears-</p><p><br/> “Dismount knight and state your name.” </p><p><br/>The order jarred Castiel from his thoughts, blinking absentmindedly. He slung a heavy leg over his saddle and the noise that came from his armor from the impact drew what eyes were not on the pair from the start of their interaction. Standing straight, Castiel looked straight ahead, avoiding the eyes of the prince. If it wasn’t for the mount beside them, he would be blinded by the sun. </p><p><br/>“I am Sir Castiel Novak, Knight Commander of the King’s Watch.” The response was quick and short.</p><p><br/> “I see,’’ the prince simply responded. “So what brings the Knight Commander all the way out here away from the castle? Away from my father and his cabinet?” The prince had lowered his voice and had stepped closer to Castiel. They were not more than a foot from each other. The prince’s smile had disappeared all together now.</p><p><br/> “I was ordered by Lord-” </p><p><br/>“I don’t care who you were ordered by to be out here, unless it was from my father’s own lips or the gods above. Do not intervene in my business until you can successfully finish yours.” The last sentence stung Castiel’s pride and heart as all he could think about was the bodies that would never be found or the families who would never receive closure. </p><p><br/>Stepping away from the knight, the prince had found his smile and turned back towards to people who watched quizzically. Castiel’s eyes were glued to the ground. </p><p><br/>“I must apologize but I must take my leave. It was wonderful seeing the faces of you all and I plan on doing it again, much sooner than later!” The prince was met with laughing faces and joyful responses. </p><p><br/> Glancing up, Castiel meet the prince’s eyes; but before anything else could be spoken between the two, Castiel mounted his horse and called to his company. They needed to make it back in time to write up the reports of the day.</p><p><br/> “Your Grace,” Castiel curtsied the best he could and turned his horse away, towards the city limits away from the fields that started to shined. ___________________________________________________________________________</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong> The Prince’s P.O.V. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>He had been in the castle for almost 6 months with no reprise from his father’s grasp. He could not hide behind closed doors for much longer. He needed to get out, and quickly at that.</p><p><br/> So he left.</p><p><br/> With the disguise of false confidence and a bright smile, there wasn’t much anyone could do to make him stay, except, well, tell him father. But that was not an issue here. His father was in a meeting that he would be stuck in for the rest of the day. The perfect timing often presents itself in mysterious ways around here. </p><p><br/>Gathering a few low ranking knights that wouldn’t dare speak out against the crowned-prince, he left early that morning. He wouldn’t be able to get very far but any distance is better than none. They rode out at morning and arrived at the small town by late mid-day. He would have to leave soon. </p><p><br/>The town’s folk quickly gathered around him in awe of the visit by royalty. The knights he had brought with him eyed both the prince and the people carefully, unsure of what to think of the situation. A son disobeying a father? Hardly anyone would bate an eye. But a prince disobeying a very stubborn and angry king? Hell would freeze over for the next week.</p><p><br/> The whole altercation with the Knight’s Commander threw everything he had hoped for out the window. Now he had to return back to the castle to do damage control, if his father didn’t burn the place down. With a goodbye and a bright smile, the prince and his knights galloped towards the castle with hopes of seeing the next morning sun.</p><p><br/> The commander had gotten a head start but it wasn’t much. He could catch him, he was a good rider and everyone knew it. The knight would have to first dismiss his company, clean up, write up a report, and report to his father on the day’s excursion. The prince would skip all that and head straight to the commander. Perks of a royal.</p><p><br/> By the time he had returned to the city, it was almost night and merchants had left the streets in fear of smugglers and thieves. He couldn’t go in the front gates; he would be spotted easily and word would reach the castle quickly. He would need to use the passage the peasants used to enter the market place to try to sell what little they had at a higher price. </p><p><br/>Dismissing his entourage, the prince went around the walls of the city until he found a grate. The walls of the city were old and had moss growing up them. The prince could never remember a time where the gates were compromised. Removing the grate, he entered a small channel that water ran into when the moats inside the city overflowed. It was luck there had been no rain recently. The only noise heard was the sound of the prince’s breaths and the splash of water against the concrete and riding boots. Nothing could be seen as there was no light except for the entrance which was far enough away now it could be considered an exit. There were twists and turns that he had easily memorized from the constant use of the tunnels. He really had to give thanks to the engineer of them, if they were still alive.</p><p><br/> At the end of the tunnels was a similar grate from the one he removed. From the space in between the iron bars, he could see that the moat the tunnel had led to was still quite low. Perfect. Waiting until he was sure no one was around, he removed the grate and was able to swing himself up onto the roadway. Standing up nonchalantly, he brushed himself off, hoping to make himself slightly more presentable for when he entered the gates of his father.</p><p><br/>Taking a deep breath and holding his head high, he started to stride upward towards the castle on the hill. A few glances were tossed his way but no one tried to stop him. </p><p><br/>By the time he reached the guard towers, he was out of breath. His normal trek would have him casually stroll through the city’s occupants to stop and talk. But tonight, he didn’t have time to waste. </p><p><br/>Upon seeing the person in the dark was the prince, the guards in the guard towers shouted orders and within minutes they were opening the doors to the castle for him. Spotting the first currier in his sights, the prince called out to him.</p><p><br/> “Has the Knight’s Commander returned?”</p><p><br/> Shocked, the currier gave a quiet response, “Yes, Your Grace. He had requested a meeting with your father earlier.” </p><p><br/>“Thanks,” was all that was said of the prince as his strides turned into a quick jog once no one was around.</p><p><br/> Cursing under his breath, he headed straight towards the throne room. His father would always be there to receive reports and news, one of the only reliable traits his father had.</p><p><br/> The entrance to the throne room would be easy to miss if it wasn’t for the size of the dark doors. The doors had the family seal carved into the doors and thin lines of gold outlined the wyvern. The handles of the door were made of obsidian that, to the prince, looked hideous. During the right time of day, the outline of gold would make up for the lack therefor. </p><p><br/>Taking a few deep breathes, he made sure to have picture perfect smile before opening the door. What was inside made his breath almost leave his body.</p><p><br/> A figure accentuated by dirty armor and a month worth of facial hair was talking to his father. The Knight’s Commander had beaten him to the castle.</p><p> </p><p> <em>Shit</em>.</p><p><br/> Both faces looked towards the prince. If the thought of his father burning the place down while the prince was gone was frightening, him burning the place down while his son was there was excruciatingly terrifying. </p><p><br/>The knight, Castiel, looked as if he had a stroke just then with how wide his eyes were and the paleness of his skin. Walking towards them, the king's demeanor shifted from deep in thought to that of anger. And the look on the king’s face gave warning to what the kings would say eventually. </p><p>
  <em> Double Shit.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel bad for all the descriptive writing but someone has to describe these places lol.<br/>I hope to have more dialogue and interesting scenes after all these descriptions are done.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Castiel's P.O.V</strong> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>His ride back from the village was one of the least pleasant experiences he has had. The sun was in his eyes, his body ached from his armor, the prince’s smart remarks-</p><p>The thought of his conversation, if you could call it that, with the prince urged him to get back to the city as quick as possible, if only for the temporary space between them it provided. None of his knights spoke to him nor did he speak to them. The prince’s comment earlier had easily irked them as it irked the commander. Castiel knew the prince was a brat but never did he think he would refer to his missing, and presumed dead, people as business that needed to be finished.</p><p>The thought of mentioning the prince in his report would be worthwhile but he’d rather not have a pissed off prince and an unpredictable king at his back. The prince could wait.</p><p>The sky had started to change from its midday shades to shades of oranges and dark reds when they approached the castle gates. They had made it through the city’s busy streets filled with people closing shops. There had been rumors of people missing and reappearing ‘different.’ Castiel had scouts on the lookout but there has been no concrete proof of such things happening, only words of mouth.</p><p>The stone roads allowed for the sound of the horses’ hooves to calm Castiel some. Guards in the towers saluted the return of the Knight’s Commander and lowered the bridge over the moat. Once inside the courtyard, squires and a number of stable boys came to fetch the horses to put them away. Dismounting and handing the reins to a boy of no more than 13 years, Castiel looked around his surroundings.</p><p>The courtyard had not changed since his departure. The flowers that lined the stone walkways were in full bloom and varied in a number of colors and sizes. A large fountain sat in the middle of the courtyard and from its center was a tall pillar that used to hold a clock, now broken. Who knew how long it had been like that. The walkways that lead from the center lead to different parts of the castle. The gardens, stables, knight’s quarters, and cemetery could all be reached from following the paths here. Everything was connected.</p><p>“Welcome back, Sir. It has been too long it seems.”</p><p>Turning to face the voice, Castiel smiled. There was his friend Daniel who he had went through training and most of childhood with. Daniel was a simple looking man with pale skin, brown hair, and brown eyes. The best description would be plain. His physique as a knight would be the only point of interest he had. They embraced for only a second before Daniel fake gaged. </p><p>“Dear gods, what have you done? You smell as though you slept with a pig most nights. A dead one at that.”</p><p>Letting out an exasperated sigh, Castiel let go of Daniel and motioned to himself. “I thought I smelt great. Like lavender.”</p><p>“Yeah, if lavender was the name of a rotting flesh.”</p><p>“Why would I sleep with a deceased pig?”</p><p>Letting out a groan, Daniel put an arm around Castiel’s shoulder and leaned in close. “We really need to work on your humor later. Any way, the king has requested you no matter the state you are in.”</p><p>Dropping his arm, Daniel started to walk towards the castle doors. The news the king wanted to speak to him as soon as he came back was unusual.</p><p>Following Daniel, Castiel questioned Daniel. “Did he say what for? Normally reports are due the day after a mission’s return.”</p><p>“Nope. Just asked to bring you to him. He didn’t seem angry, just, meh.”</p><p>“Meh? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>The king in a ‘meh’ mood was something that he had never heard. Daniel just shrugged and continued walking.</p><p> “If today is my last night on this world, I give you all my earthly possessions.” Castiel stated as he started to do a run down of all the questions he could be asked.</p><p>
  <em>What did you fine? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Any signs of the Azslets crossing? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Did you find the missing knights? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where is my son?</em>
</p><p>“Now don’t be like that Castiel, you know that the king would never get rid of you as long as you can swing a sword. Not a lot of us have that privilege.”</p><p>It was true. Many of the more experienced knights were aging and running out of time to serve. Castiel was still young and held a place at the king’s side. He wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.</p><p>Approaching the castle was always intimidating. Th dark stone walls were old but had seemed to stand the test of time and seemed to ever so grow more towards the sky each time he walked up towards the castle.  Moss grew in between the cracks and grooves which gave the castle a slightly haunted look. Large glass windows lined the entire castle and you could see people walking quickly down the hallways from the outside. The only windows that offered some privacy were those that were positioned in bedrooms. With the approaching night time, candles could be seen decorating the window sills offering some illumination. The handles of the large castle door were made of obsidian, like all the handles in the vicinity.</p><p>Castiel thought they always had looked gaudy with the odd blackness of the volcanic glass.</p><p>Pushing open the door, Daniel lead Castiel inside. The large foyer held numerous servants walking to unknown destinations and the pair of knights only earned a few glances. There were numerous candles lit and hanging from the ceiling were 3 large chandeliers, two towards the back of the foyer and one above the entrance they just came through. Torches accompanied the candles and lined large staircases leading to the upper parts of the castle. Despite the many people talking and walking, there was a lack of echo. The quiet always made Castiel somewhat unsettled. Quietness often lead to something unpleasant in his line of work.</p><p>Still leading the way, Daniel headed towards the left of the foyer, towards the throne room. It wasn’t a surprise he would meet the king in the throne room, he had most always gave report there. But he wasn’t sure what to report on quit yet or how to give it. Castiel would normally have several drafts written up before he settled on one to give. He wasn’t used to going in unprepared.</p><p>Inside the throne room was calm compared to the foyer. A number of Lords and some Ladies were scattered along the room in small groups. All Castiel ever heard from them was gossip on who had an affair with who or who would be married off next to an affluent family.</p><p>The king sat in the back of the room on a slightly raised pedestal upon an obsidian throne. Gold trim was fixed to the throne and the reflection given off by the surrounding candles looked as it the chair was moving, shifting under the king. The royal family colors and symbol hung on large tapestries that attached at the top of the walls and hung only a few feet from the ground. A large fireplace sat behind the king which darkened his face and hid almost all emotions. Beside him was a smaller throne that stayed empty. The late queen.</p><p>All eyes were upon them as they entered the room. Walking up towards the throne, Daniel and Castiel kneeled and waited to be addressed.</p><p>“Sir Daniel Vargas, you are dismissed.”</p><p>With the simple command, Daniel raised to his feet, curtsied, and left. The king looked at Castiel for a moment and then stood. He walked a few feet in front of Castiel and directed his attention to the rest.</p><p>“Leave us.” Within minutes, the last noble walked through the entrance into the foyer and the king and Castiel was alone.</p><p>“You may rise.”</p><p>Following the king’s instruction, Castiel stood with his shoulders back and chin up. Just because it looked as though he slept with a large hog does not mean he should act as if he did.</p><p>The king was dressed in his usual attire of a dark tunic tucked into his pants with leather boots. Despite the large fireplace, he wore a dark overcoat that had gold trim all along the edges of the coat. The fabric seemed to be made of velvet with a dark green shoulder cape attached. His features had aged exponentially in the last decade. Wrinkles lined his eyes and his forehead. Gray hairs started to outnumber the dark hair that once was there. Despite this, the king was still taller than Castiel.</p><p>“Report.”</p><p>Still taken aback from not being able to prepare in advance Castiel started, “Your Highness, I don’t-“</p><p>Stepping so that the king was no more than a foot from his face, the king lowered his voice in a threatening manner Castiel had never had directed at him before, "Report. Now."</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Castiel started his report.</p><p>“Of course, Your Highness. We reached the sight of the missing men a week and a half after our first departure. As we expected, there was evidence of a large mud slide at the base they were supposed to set up. Upon further inspection, we could not find any evidence of the missing men, supplies, or evidence of their horses in the surrounding area. There was no evidence of anyone that could have been up there. We looked for roughly a week before I decided it was futile to keep looking. There was no opposition along the way or returning from the outcrop. Villages and small encampments seemed positive to the king’s men presence. End of report.”</p><p>The king had moved away from Castiel’s space to listen to the report. His lips were in a thin line as he seemed to mull over his words. As the king took a breath to start his inquires, the large door opened with a hideous groan and a single figure stood against the light of the foyer. If Castiel didn’t know better, he would have cursed all the gods.</p><p>Striding into the throne room, the prince had a lopsided smile and arms open.</p><p>“Father, how inconvenient,” the princes eyes cut towards Castiel, “I was hoping to have word with you. In private.”</p><p>Castiel knew better but he held the gaze.</p><p>Angered at his son’s interruption, the king’s calm demeanor broke down and the one who had threatened Castiel returned.</p><p>“How much of a fool do you think you are for barging in here unannounced? You of all people should know better.” His words increased in volume as he continued.</p><p>“Do you not know of respect? Have you not had it <em>seared</em> into you yet?” Spit from the king's mouth could be seen flying and Castiel was grateful he was no longer close to the man. </p><p>Now focusing on his father, the prince replied simply, “Of course I have. I only thought to let you know of my whereabouts.”</p><p>“And what of them? Whose bedchambers have you been visiting now? Do you really think I want to hear of your exploits? I hear enough of them through the court’s gossip.” Turning from his son, the king went to sit back on his throne. The prince’s face was that of confusion, his eyes bounced from the knight to his father before landing on the knight’s form.</p><p>The fireplace casted a dark shadow over the king's face, hiding any and all emotion there. Putting his head in his hand the king continued.</p><p>“Or have you had an unexpected outing you would like to tell me about? Leave us, Sir Castiel. I believe me and my son need to have a discussion.”</p><p>A flash of fear crossed the prince's face before a practiced smile took over. Cas could only curtsy so fast to both prince and king before walking as fast as he could out of the room. He could handle a lot of debates and discussions; but the king’s and prince’s arguments were notorious for being explosive. He could deal without them.</p><p>Outside the foyer was a large portion of the nobles who were dismissed earlier by the king. They all eyed Castiel as he opened the door and exited the throne room. Nothing was kept a secret here. Some would bore of waiting on the king to be open for court again while some would stay and listen to what the two family members would say. Everyone would know by week’s end.</p><p>Castiel gained a few disgusted looks which made him realize he had yet gotten cleaned up. Walking through the crowd, he headed towards his chambers in the castle to get clean and hopefully smell something similar to lavender and not a pig.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Castiel's P.O.V.</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t a long walk back to his quarters. He was fortunate to have his room within the walls of the castle. Privilege came with rank. The large stone corridors were empty for the occasional servant entering and exiting a room, trying their best to clean for the occupant of the room. Walking down the candle-lit hallways offered Castiel a moment of solace to not think. All it seemed he has done for the past month was think and piece together situations that could not fit together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rolling his shoulders as he walked, Castiel let out a tense sigh. He could rest for a while, he would have to. Being back at court added a new list of priorities he would try to fit into the many he already had. After two flights of steps and turning a corner, he could see his room’s door, the second to last door on the right.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Castiel was glad he had a normal doorhandle, no obsidian. Feeling a small smile on his lips, he quickened his pace and pulled out a small key. Inserting the key into the lock hole, he could feel a small click and was able to turn the handle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Home sweet home,” Castiel mumbled as he looked around his room. It was just as he left it. It was a simple but sizable room. In one corner was his bed with a nightstand which held extra candles. There was desk in another corner with papers neatly stacked and a bookcase next to it. Two large closets were against the wall that held mostly the same clothes with the occasional formal wear, which he rarely wore. Two large windows allowed for light to enter the room and warm the room in the winter with the aid of the fireplace. A large wooden table with detailed legs stood in the middle of the room. Castiel had tried to get it removed but it couldn’t leave without being disassembled; so, it stayed. The fireplace seemed to almost be as old as the castle. The inside was black from the years of use and accumulation of soot and burning wood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A perk his room had that some didn’t have was a smaller room connected to the main room. This room housed a bath, mirror and extra storage.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bath was filled with water that steamed and on the bathroom counter was a smaller basin with towels and a razor to shave with. Undoing his armor, he let it slide to the ground and stepped out of it, not wasting any time to fully undo the fastens. His clothes were gone even faster. Castiel didn’t care how hot the water was or if he would need more water to be fully washed. He just wanted anything to wash the last month away. Sliding into the bath was almost the most blissful feeling he had felt in a while.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The water started to turn cloudy before long and taking a bar of soap Castiel went to work on the grime. Scrubbing the dirt away took more effort than he thought but eventually he was satisfied with the end product. Stepping away from the bath was difficult due to the chill of the room. The only thing left to do was shave his facial hair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At 25 years old, he still sucked at it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had a couple of cuts that bleed for only a moment. No one could notice unless they got to close and Castiel wasn’t the one to allow just anyone to invade his personal space. His image in the mirror was blurry from the steam produced from the bath condensed in the small room. He could tell from his image he wasn’t in top physique condition, but his muscles still had definition and after a few weeks of being at the castle, he would be back to his formal condition. Tracing his hand over his abdomen, he could feel the gently raised skin of a large scar. Dropping his hand, he exited the room with a towel around his waist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Opting for a  black tunic and matching trousers, Castiel exited his room to head to the mess hall. He didn’t know how most nobles opted for eating in their rooms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Castiel had just reached the bottom of the last flight of stairs when he felt hands on either side of his shirt collar. Roughly, he was shoved against the wall in an almost too perfect spot by large strong hands , just where the lights didn’t quit meet, providing a dark spot to be hidden in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who are you?” Castle said in a gruff voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you really not know your liege?” said the voice, hushed and slurred.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Castiel’s eye flew wide open in recognition. <em>The prince</em>. Before Castiel could respond the prince continued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It’s been bugging me ever since I had that…<em>discussion</em> with my father, why did you omit my presence from your ‘port?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It wasn’t important at the time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The prince just laughed at the response. His breath was foul with alcohol.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, I’m not ‘portant?” The prince tightened his hold on Castiel’s tunic and pressed him harder against the cold stone wall. Was that a pout?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, your grace, it’s-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have a name you know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shocked and confused at the statement, all Castiel could respond with was a, “What?” This earned him a chuckle from the prince.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“ If I hear one more ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Your Highness,’ I might just throw you out the window. Granted it’s not a far drop, the rose bushes would still hurt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stepping away from the stunned knight, the prince smiled and held his arms out to the sides in a grand gesture.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean. My name is Dean.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>What the hell type of prince is this?  </em>Was all Castiel thought. He knew he wasn’t too familiar with the prince’s tendencies, but was he really this eccentric?</p>
<p>Still waiting on the knight’s response, Dean dropped his arms and added, “Prince Dean if you are all for formalities.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your Gr-, um, Prince Dean, what exactly is happening here?” Now able to step away from the wall Castiel entered the light, hopefully someone would see him and come rescue him from this situation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With a face of discomfort, Dean asked his question again. His hand seemed to clutch at his stomach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell my father about me in the village during your report?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean was slightly swaying at this point and had to lean onto the wall to keep his balance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Scrambling to come up with an answer, his thoughts were disturbed by the sound of liquid splashing to the ground and a horrible squelching noise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Covering his nose with his arm, Castiel almost decided to throw himself out the window.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dear gods,” was all that was said as the prince emptied his stomach in the dark. Just how much did he drink earlier?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Castiel had seen a lot in his short tenure at life. Guts, blood, impaled bodies all had been stored in his memory but vomiting? He could live without seeing that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean remained against the wall catching his breath as best he could. His eyes were closed and there were involuntary tears that raced down his face. His neck remained flush and contrasted harshly against the paleness of his face from the exertion and sickness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll go fetch a nurse to help you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Passing by Dean, Castiel was stopped by a surprisingly strong hand on his arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you are hardly able to stand. You need-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>No,” </em>Dean said looking up from his hunched over position. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sternness and severity in Dean’s face was a surprise to Castiel and for a split second, he saw the face of the king. Frozen and holding his breath, Castiel stood still for a second. If the prince refused to seek help, what could he do?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean had gone back to his slumped form against the wall. Cursing under his breath, the knight took the prince’s hand and pulled him from the wall. With Dean’s arm over his shoulder and Castiel’s arm around his back holding onto the belt loop on Dean’s waist, Castiel hoisted Dean to his feet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The prince tried to protest but the alcohol would not let him form his sentences fast enough.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“With all due respect, Your Grace, please do not talk. Your breath reeks and I do not care for vomit to be on my person.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Dean’s P.O.V </span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The light that reached his room blinded him. Or was it his headache? He couldn’t tell nor did he care, really. He laid on his bed wearing the same clothes that he had on yesterday, minus his boots. Struggling to find his belt’s clasp, he was able to pull it off and relieve the pressure it had on his abdomen. Groaning, he slowly lifted himself up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Looking around the room, memories from last night slowly trickled in. It had started at the end of him and his father arguing about his exit from the castle, which luckily only ended in an angry dismissal from the king. To calm his nerves, Dean had decided a drink would help. Apparently, one turned into many more after a while. Grime covered his teeth and a foul after taste was in his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now standing, Dean used the furniture in his room to support him as he navigated towards the bathroom. His room was much larger than others, as it would for royalty. His large bed laid in the corner of the bed with a canopy so that if he was lucky to sleep in, he could use it to block the sun. The floor was covered in rich carpets that matched the curtains that hung in front of the windows. Bookshelves and desks lined the walls of the room with secrets Dean never cared to figure out. The colors of the room were not that of the royal family but that of light blues and grays. A large table sat centered in the room with papers and maps strewn across it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Passing by the table, Dean noticed a chair knocked over and papers scattered from the table on the floor. He was not one to leave a mess of things or stay in his room while on his drunkard route. Using the table as a crutch, he straightened the chair up and picked up the papers. They were simple maps that showed the layout of the region they resided in and neighboring regions that threatened their borders. Stacking the papers and placing them on the table, Dean looked around to see if anything else was misplaced.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He eyes strained to focus but he could see that on the dresser near the door, a candle holder and picture laid on its side. Making his way over there he realized he must have been more drunk then he realized for him to knock over items. Turning around, he scanned the room to the best of his ability. Seeing nothing else out of place, he decided to do something about the stench that came from his breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bathroom was much more simpler than his room but still had much more accommodations than others. His bath was composed of the corner of the room with a step around the front of it and was much more larger than others. He could fit three persons comfortably inside the porcelain bath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On one end of the room, the entire wall was composed of a mirror that made dressing in the morning quite easy. And instead of one sink, he had three, all sharing a countertop with a smaller mirror above each one. Closets lined the wall in front of the sinks that housed his sleep wear. He could see himself in the mirror and grimaced.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His eyes were lined with dark circles and his skin felt slightly clammy and was warm to the touch. His clothing was wrinkled and in all sorts of disarray similar to his hair. The normally neatly styled hair was now flattened and held no shape. The greens of his eyes seemed dull in comparison to their usual brightness. Running his hand through his hair, he let out an exasperated sigh. Turning around to examine his back side, Dean noticed a slight fluttering beside him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On one of the sinks, was a piece of paper.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Curious as who could have left the note, Dean grabbed the piece of paper and went back into the main room. The writing was not the neatest but was legible. Using the light from the windows, he was able to read it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Prince, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>After your drunkard ambush, I thought it best to bring you back to your quarters as you were against the idea of any help from the castle staff. I would like to apologize for any damage done to your room as you were unconscious and did little to help me as I carried you into your room and to your bed as I knocked into some furniture. Do not worry, there was no one that I know of that saw us in the hallways. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I do pray you don’t mind, but I discarded your boots as they were ruined with vomit, yours of course. </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tea and a light breakfast will help with the headache you may be experiencing as you read this. </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>                                                                                                                                                                   -Sr. Cas. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A knock on the door made Dean look up towards the clock. It was almost 8 a.m. With no response from the prince, another knock sounded from the door and a small voice accompanied it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your Grace, breakfast came by earlier and had no response. We were able to save a plate and thought it best you eat while getting dressed for the day ahead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, come in.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A small handful of servants entered the room. Some set up plates and various drinks on the table and others brought in hot water and clean towels that would be used for his bath. They all wore simple clothes made of simple fabric. Being the prince’s direct servants, they were able to acquire clothes in more elaborate colors and designs compared to those who merely cooked or cleaned the rooms that didn’t host any one of nobility or wealth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Surveying the food and drinks that had been brought in, Dean asked the nearest servant, “Does one of these cups hold any tea? Particularly one that may assist in a headache?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Offering the prince a small red cup that seemed to have speaks of gold in its layers, Dean threw his head back with the tea all at once.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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